


Check and Mate

by Attalander



Series: Dancing With the Damned (Tanz der Vampire) [4]
Category: Tanz der Vampire - Steinman/Kunze
Genre: Alfred & Abronsius aren’t morons, Awkward Conversations, Blatant Metaphors, Blood (not human), Chess, Cooking, Count von Krolock is terrifying, Gen, Happy Ending, Human/Vampire Relationship, Humor, M/M, Minor Fix-It, Period-Typical Homophobia, Religious Conflict, Romance, Science, plot without porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:20:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26426278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Attalander/pseuds/Attalander
Summary: Alfred thought things were alright in the castle. He had a good life and a blooming maybe-love, and the vampires had actually stopped killing people for his sake.Then Count von Krolock told him a terrible truth, forcing Alfred to make a choice: his life, or his convictions? Luckily, with a little help, there might be a third option.
Relationships: (background), Alfred/Herbert von Krolock, Professor Abronsius & Alfred (Tanz der Vampire), Sarah Chagal/Graf von Krolock
Series: Dancing With the Damned (Tanz der Vampire) [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1889503
Comments: 28
Kudos: 33





	1. Opening Moves

**Author's Note:**

> This story forms a turning point in both my story and writing process. It’s the no-porn all-plot bit that sets things up for later & why things will turn out the way they do, but it’s also the bit where I went “ok, this isn’t just a fun, unwinding series anymore” and fell into my usual ridiculous amounts of research.
> 
> Seriously, I spent hours trying to figure out if Herbert would properly be called a ‘viscount’ (because it’s an English-language fic about a German language musical set in 1880’s Romania, which was part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire at the time... you get the picture).
> 
> So yeah. If you’re here for vampire porn, skip this one, but I at least tried to make it funny.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chess game, a revelation, and a question: is Alfred a pawn or a queen?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My thesis here is basically that our “fearless vampire killers” are not morons. Rather, they’re both intelligent academics that are woefully unprepared for dangerous fieldwork. The duo managed to track their quarry all the way to their castle, and only ran into problems when the deadly realities of their task (freezing weather, murderous vampires, seductive young blondes, having to stake people) came up.
> 
> Like mirror-universe Indiana Jones, but they think they’re regular Indiana Jones.

“I think...” Alfred licked his lips, staring at the chessboard. He fiddled with his queen, rolling the finely-wrought ivory piece back and forth between his fingers, before nodding and placing it down. “I think that’s checkmate.”

Count von Krolock blinked down at the board, face unreadable. For a moment Alfred thought he’d made a terrible mistake, angered the deadly vampire before him... then the count let out a dark chuckle.

“Impressive,” the count said. His bloodless lips quirked into a smile. “You’re a young man of hidden talents, aren’t you? I can see why my son is so smitten.”

“T-thank you,” Alfred stammered. The human might’ve spent nearly three months in the castle already, but he was sure he’d never stop being scared of Herbert’s father. The vampire radiated a palpable aura of intimidating power, and he clearly knew it. The only ones in the castle who didn’t seem frightened of the count were his son, his servant and his lover. Or maybe Sarah did fear the count, but just thought it was part of the appeal.

That was understandable in a way Alfred didn’t want to think too hard about. The vampire was certainly striking, all sharp cheekbones and silver-streaked hair. He looked so much like an older, darker Herbert that Alfred (who had finally admitted to liking men) could certainly see the allure...

Nope. No way, absolutely _not_. Alfred had a sense of self-preservation, and a genuine affection for Herbert. Regardless of the resemblance, the undeniably sexy count couldn’t hold a candle to his son. Sarah could have the brooding, terrifying elder von Krolock and Alfred would gladly keep the sweet and sunny younger.

“You’re better than you were the last time,” the vampire said. They’d played once before, and Alfred had given a barely decent account of himself. Of course, it was far less difficult to concentrate without Herbert in the room, hovering and offering well-meaning but terrible advice.

“It’s easier without distractions,” Alfred admitted.

“Intelligent, handsome, brave...” von Krolock drummed long, talon-like nails on the table. “And resourceful. You really have my son wrapped around your finger, don’t you?”

“I...” Alfred swallowed so loudly he knew the vampire could hear it. “I don’t know what you mean, sir.”

“No?” the count asked, raising an arched brow. “You haven’t noticed the way he dotes on you? He’s so besotted he’s reigned the entire castle in, just to spare your delicate, human morals.”

Oh. _That_ was it. Alfred had known there was a reason why the count had invited him back to his rooms alone. The chess game was probably just an excuse, even if the vampire had seemed to enjoy it as much as he enjoyed anything.

“I...” Alfred swallowed again. He looked down at the table, avoiding the count’s gaze and the hypnotic power it could wield. “I can’t just sit by and do nothing, sir...”

“Oh, I understand.” von Krolock said, leaning back in his chair, hands steepled before him. “You’re a child still, naive and idealistic. Barely twenty summers and so _sure_ of what’s right and wrong.”

“You think what I’m doing is wrong?” Alfred asked. How could he be blamed for preventing murder? The human had a little power here, he had to use it to protect others.

“I think it’s... unwise.” The undead nobleman’s lip curled, revealing one pointed fang. “My subjects and I can survive on animal blood, but it’s hardly palatable or filling. Like prison food, just bread and water. And here you are, wandering around the castle... a living, _delicious_ temptation.”

Oh. Oh no. Alfred’s mouth went bone-dry and he started shaking like a leaf. If not for Herbert’s protection, this man, this _monster_ , would’ve torn his throat out a long time ago. How far could Alfred push the count before that protection was no longer enough? Had he already crossed that line?

“Are you...” Alfred said, voice weak. “Are you going to kill me?”

“Oh no,” the count said. “I wouldn’t do that to my son... but my kind aren’t exactly known for our self-restraint. I can only hold my subjects back for so long before someone loses control. The perpetrator would be executed, of course, but vengeance would likely be cold comfort.”

The threat was clear. If Alfred didn’t tell Herbert it was alright to eat people again, it would mean his own life. Then the castle’s inhabitants would go right back to feeding, his efforts making no difference but one less vampire among dozens, a dead Alfred and a distraught Herbert.

The human couldn’t think of anything to say, anything to _do_. It was an impossible choice... how could he live in a place where people were being slaughtered like cattle? How could he kiss Herbert, knowing those fangs had ripped open some poor innocent’s flesh? He knew the blonde had a body count, had survived for centuries by feeding on human life, but he could deal with it as long as it stayed in the past.

Count von Krolock seemed to realize he’d made his point but wasn’t going to get an immediate answer. He picked up one of Alfred’s pawns he had previously taken, tracing a finger over the carved ivory.

“Such a fascinating game, chess,” he mused, “Even a pawn can become a queen if they’re in the right place at the right time. A sudden rise to power is... heady, is it not? Too bad even a queen isn’t invincible.”

The count dropped the pawn, which rattled on the tabletop, before taking hold of his own ebony knight. The move he made was unexpected, but obvious now Alfred saw it, knocking over the human’s queen and taking himself out of check.

“Your move, boy,” the count said, as though he hadn’t just hit Alfred with the most blatant and threatening of metaphors.

But the human wasn’t just going to give up. Not on the game, or on his convictions. His eyes raked the board as he searched for anything else he’d missed, some tiny chance to turn things around. His hand was shaking as he picked up his one remaining bishop, but he still moved forward, taking the knight and avenging his queen.

“Back to you,” Alfred said. His eyes flicked up to the Count’s just barely, avoiding the firm contact that might take away his will.

“Very well,” the Count replied.

The rest of the match was played in silence, tension filling the air like a storm was about to break. Count von Krolock was viciously precise, enough to show he’d been holding back before, but Alfred didn’t give up. He fought for every piece, every inch of ground he lost.

Still, the Count had centuries of practice, finally pinning Alfred’s king in place with nowhere to run. His smile was one of cold victory, but he also looked genuinely pleased.

“Not bad,” he said, rubbing his chin. “You have potential, boy... you just need to learn to make sacrifices.”

If the metaphors were any thicker on the ground Alfred would be up to his neck in them. He tidied up the pieces, still not looking directly at the count .

“I... I’ll keep that in mind,” Alfred said, quietly.

“I do hope you make the right choice,” von Krolock said. There was a hint of something in his voice, something almost like kindness. “I haven’t had a decent opponent in decades. Did the professor teach you?”

“Yes,” Alfred said. It seemed the count would prefer him alive as well... too bad the youth had no idea how to accomplish that.

“Maybe I’ll ask him for a game later,” von Krolock mused.

“How-“ Alfred’s head snapped up, completely forgetting not to meet the Count’s eyes. “Hasn’t he left?”

“Oh no, he’s still in the village,” The vampire said. “The man’s too proud to abandon his life’s work, and besides... I told him I’d kill you if he left. A simple lie, but he seemed to believe it.”

“Oh...” Alfred said, eyes wide. He’d thought the professor hated him now, saw him as a disgusting pervert. If the Count spoke the truth, Professor Abronsius had stayed at least partly for his assistant’s sake... the thought that there was someone ready to risk his life for Alfred made his heart feel a little fuller.

Then the idea struck him, something wild and bold and probably insane, but the only thing he could think of.

“Your excellency,” he said, formal and polite even though his nerves were on fire. “If the professor is still here, I think... I think I might have a solution.”

“Oh really?” The count raised a swooping, arched brow. “I’m all ears.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: if Alfred seems a little OOC (a little less impulsive, etc.) that’s because he is. He’s been through a lot had some time to grow, at least somewhat. I look forward to exploring that growth, and Herbert’s.
> 
> Also I think both he and the professor would be good at chess, simply because it involves rational thinking and logic while being able to take your time and not rush in like an idiot. He’s still not as good as Count von 300 Years of Experience, but given the nobleman’s lack of anyone decent to play against he’s probably pretty rusty.
> 
> Finally, the count is hot. Fight me.


	2. Zwischenzug

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first of many awkward conversations: an idea, an argument, and Alfred grows a spine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zwischenzug: A chess move that sets up another but doesn’t actually involve a capture or sacrifice.
> 
> This chapter involves historical attitudes towards homosexuality and a lot of scholarly, moral and religious debate, but it never gets too nasty.

Alfred stood, biting his lip as he worked up the courage to knock. Had it only been a few months ago that he and the professor had slept behind this very door? That this this inn had held Chagal, Magda and Sarah? Now it was near-empty, worked only by Rebecca and a few hired hands who had pointed Alfred to the right room without saying a word.

Steeling himself, the young man raised his hand and rapped on the wood.

“Professor? Professor are you in there?”

There was a scrabbling sound from the room, a crash of breaking glass, and then the door was yanked open. Professor Abronsius stood there, hair disheveled and neck wreathed in garlic. He brandished a crucifix in Alfred’s face, eyes wild.

“I knew you’d come for me!” The professor yelled, smacking the crucifix against Alfred’s forehead hard enough to leave a tiny imprint of Jesus, “Back, _back_ you fiend!“

“Professor!” Alfred grabbed his mentor’s arm, stopping the holy battering “I’m not- It’s me! _Alfred!_ ”

“You are but the damned _shadow_ of that boy!” Abronsius said, struggling vainly, “you’re nothing but a monster, embraced by evil-“

“Oh for Christ’s sake,” Alfred groaned. He grabbed the professor’s other hand, bringing it up to his own neck. “It’s 10AM and this place is full of garlic, I’m _human!_ ”

“You’re still...” The professor blinked at him, fingers pressed against the young man’s pulse point, feeling his heartbeat. “You’re still alive?”

“Fit as a fiddle,” Alfred replied.

Suddenly there were arms around Alfred, pulling him into a hug. The unexpected display of affection made the young man nearly want to cry. The professor had never hugged Alfred before, nobody had for so many, many years until Herbert came along. But this was different, paternal instead of sexual or romantic. The kind of embrace his own father had rarely given him even before Alfred was orphaned.

“Come in, come in,” Abronsius said, pulling the young man into his room. “Sit down!”

There was barely anywhere to sit. The bench Alfred had previously slept on was covered in papers, loose or bound into notebooks. More pages were scattered underfoot, as well as the shattered shards of a bottle... and it wasn’t the only one. At least three empty vodka bottles were shoved into random corners, one of which had a dirty sock draped over the top. It was like when Alfred had first met the professor, so caught up in research that he ignored everything else, except with alcohol added to the bargain.

“You’ve been drinking,” Alfred said, bending down to pick up the largest shards of glass. He threw them into the chamberpot, then scraped the smaller pieces up with a piece of paper. “I thought you said it dulled the mind?”

“I left you for dead,” Abronsius said, sitting heavily on the bed. “Forgive me for wanting to forget that. I failed you, the Chagal girl... not to mention abandoning my own research.”

Alfred looked up from his kneeling position in surprise. The professor was usually so energetic for his age, but now he looked tired, like every year weighed on his shoulders.... or at least the last few months.

“You did what you could,” Alfred said, then picked up one of the papers. “Is this a map of the castle?”

“As well as I could remember it,” the professor said. “If you were alive I wanted to save you... and if you were dead, avenge you.”

“Thank you,” Alfred said, genuinely touched. He tidied up the papers and made room for himself on the bench opposite his mentor.

“Well, the point is obviously moot,” Abronsius said, waving a dismissive hand. His eyes glinted with eagerness as he leaned forward. “What happened up there? What did you learn? How did you escape?”

“A lot happened,” Alfred said truthfully, “I learned so much... but I didn’t escape.”

“What?” The professor blinked at him. “But you’re here-“

“And I’m going back,” Alfred said. “They let me go, Herbert trusts me.”

“Ah yes...” Abronsius’s excitement seemed to wither a bit, and he scooted a few inches away from Alfred. “The count’s son. You haven’t come to your senses yet?”

“No,” Alfred said, deflating a little inside but keeping his shoulders firm. He’d known this reaction was coming and was prepared for it. “He’s more than he seems... kind, thoughtful, educated-“

“ _Male_ ,” the professor shot back, inching a little farther towards the door. “And _dead_. I thought you were above homosexual necrophilia, boy.”

“He’s hardly dead in the traditional sense,” Alfred argued. “He walks, talks- _ugh!_ ”

Alfred reeled back, clutching his nose. Professor Abronsius had snatched a tiny bottle of something from under his pillow and shoved it in his student’s face. The smell was revolting, like a dead animal that had been rotting in the sun for weeks.

“How do you like _that?_ ”the professor cried triumphantly. “My newest invention, guaranteed to break vampiric hypnosis!”

Alfred gagged, shoving the bottle and its disgusting contents away. He scrambled to his feet and stuck his head out the window, gasping for fresh air.

“What... what _is_ it?” The young man groaned when he had his stomach under control. He turned back to see the professor stoppering the bottle, looking thoroughly pleased with himself.

“Ammonium Carbonate smelling salts,” the professor said, proudly. “Combined with holy water and garlic. _Now_ , how do you feel about that vampire?”

“Exactly the same,” Alfred said. “I’m in my right mind, professor.”

“Wha- did I grab the wrong bottle?” Abronsius pulled the stopper and took a sniff. His eyes bulged in his head and Alfred had to spring forward to keep the putrid concoction from spilling all over the floor.

“Are you alright?” Alfred said, placing the bottle out of harms way.

“Fine, fine!” Abronsius said, waving one hand at his assistant until Alfred sat down again. “So you’re not hypnotized. Just insane... or hormonal, which is the same thing, really.”

“Regardless, if we can let this go-“ Alfred began, but the professor cut him off.

“No, I cannot ‘let this go’, Alfred,” Abronsius insisted. “You’re my _student_ , my responsibility. I can’t just allow you to go sliding into perdition. It’s illegal-“

“Not here,” Alfred said. The professor frowned, unused to his student contradicting him.

“-Immoral and unnatural.” Abronsius plowed on, worrying the topic like a dog with a bone. “In Johan Ludwig Casper’s _Handbook of the Practice of Forensic Medicine_ , he calls it a ‘horrible mystery’ and speaks of the detrimental physical and mental effects!”

“C-Casper’s reasoning is _flawed!_ ” Alfred stammered, voice starting to crack. He hated confrontation, and the look the professor gave him made the young man want to wilt... but no. He’d weathered the count’s threats and Herbert’s unpredictable moods, he could handle this. “I’m still attracted to women, and look at his description of men like me.”

Alfred dug in the satchel he’d brought with him, pulling out one of several books. He opened it to the earmarked page and passed it to the professor, who raised a snowy brow.

“You’ve done your research,” Abronsius said with a nod.

“Just like you taught me,” Alfred replied. He pointed at the relevant lines. “Read this.”

The professor picked up the book and read aloud, “These parties have an actual disgust at any sexual connection with women, and their fancy delights in beautiful young men...” Abronsius glanced up pointedly at the accurate description of Herbert, then kept going. “In the case of others, however, the vice is an acquired one, the result of the satiety of natural sexual pleasures. And it is nothing unusual to find them, in their gross sensuality, alternating the two sexes.”

“You see? I’d either have to be completely disinterested in women, or be some kind of hyper-sexual Casanova.” Alfred said. “Does either of those descriptions sound like me?”

“Not at all,” the old man admitted, stroking his mustache thoughtfully. “You have other documents?”

“The 1869 report from the Deputation for Medical Knowledge regarding penal code paragraph 175, commissioned by Chancellor Bismarck himself,” Alfred said eagerly, handing over the other contents of his bag. “Virchow and von Bardeleben found absolutely no scientific basis for outlawing homosexuality. I also have Ulrichs’ essays-“

“These are _banned_!” The professor said, goggling at the papers but taking them anyway.

“The count has a _very_ impressive library,” Alfred said, smiling a little. “What we saw before was only part of it.”

“Really...” Abronsius said, bending his white head to the papers. The professor could never resist knowledge, forbidden or otherwise, and he instantly lost himself to the pages in front of him.

Alfred sighed, leaning back in his seat. At least now more learned men could speak for him, make reasoned arguments without squeaking or shaking. It helped that he’d already consulted all these sources on his own a week before his chess match with the count.

The last few months Alfred had been questioning many things, including his sexuality, his morality and his faith. After Herbert had made love to him, there was no denying his growing feelings and desires, so the young man had followed his academic training and turned to research. He’d devoured everything from poetry to legal documents, at least the ones written in German, English, French or Latin. His Greek was poor for a scholar, his Russian worse and his Romanian nearly nonexistent, leaving hundreds of books beyond his reach, but the shelves still bulged with tomes on nearly every topic, collected over the centuries.

Karl Heinrich Ulrichs had truly resonated with him, as had Shakespeare’s sonnets and the sections of the Iliad Herbert had translated for him. Each of those books was well-worn, clearly among the vampire’s favorites, and Alfred could see why. Things he’d experienced, thought and felt in his earlier life fell into place; Alfred had always had this inside him, Herbert had just brought it out.

Herbert... if he’d been any other man, that would’ve been that, but of course things weren’t so simple. The blonde was undead and had no moral compass to speak of, at least when it came to the lives of strangers. If Herbert hadn’t fallen for the brunette on first sight, the young man was certain he’d be dead by now, as well as whatever others the castle’s inhabitants could catch since then.

How could Alfred justify the fact that he was growing to love a serial murderer? Rationalist or not, Alfred had been raised Lutheran, and he’d seen the effects of crucifixes on vampires first hand. If God was truly dead, as the count claimed, why did the symbols of His son do such damage? At least to Christian vampires. Chagal and Sarah were repulsed only by Stars of David, so perhaps it had something to do with belief rather than actual divine intervention... he wondered for a moment what would happen to non-Abrahamic vampires, Taoists or Buddhists or atheists, then sighed. He was just adding to his list of questions.

Questions to which the castle library held no answers. The only philosophy texts were secular and there wasn’t a single bible, so Alfred had been left to grapple with his thoughts alone. Vampires were supposed to be soulless monsters, creatures of the devil... but they clearly were capable of kindness and bravery, love and grief. If anyone had a soul, it would surely be Herbert, right?

Alfred was torn from his musings by a snort from the professor. As usual, he’d read through the documents with incredible speed, committing every word to his eidetic memory. He raised his head to peer at Alfred with something approaching respect.

“Well then,” Prof. Abronsius said, putting the documents aside, “you have made your point. I will reserve judgement for now on this particular topic.”

“Thank you, sir,” Alfred said with a sigh of relief. He hadn’t been certain this would work, and if the older scholar has refused to help him the young man would’ve been in truly dire straights.

“However,” Abronsius said, “I cannot condone your _choice_ of men. He _eats people!_ ”

Here it was, the moment Alfred had been waiting for. He took a deep breath and chose his words carefully.

“What if he didn’t have to?”

“Oh?” The professor’s eyebrows went up and he leaned forward. “What do you mean, boy?”

“Has anyone gone missing since you came back here?” Alfred asked, hands gripping each other until the knuckles turned white. If the answer wasn’t what he hoped... “Locals, travelers?”

“Not a soul,” Abronsius said. “Just livestock. I have my theories, of course, but I suppose you have some pertinent details to add.”

“Yes,” Alfred nodded, relieved. “Herbert... cares for me. Enough to intercede with his father on my behalf. The count let you go at my request, and has forbidden his people from feeding on humans as well.”

The professor’s brows shot upwards and he leaned back with a huff of surprise.

“Well! I never expected...” Abronsius started stroking his mustache thoughtfully. “That certainly changes the situation. I suppose that’s why you’re still mortal, as well?”

“Yes,” Alfred said, nodding. “I’ve been protected... so far.”

“Your tone says that’s likely to change,” Abronsius said.

“The count can’t hold back his subjects forever. They’re feeding on animal blood, but it’s only a temporary solution; nothing they’ve tried seems to be able to truly satisfy them for long.” Alfred swallowed, throat dry. “Sooner or later, someone will snap.”

“And we’ll be back to square one,” the professor shook his head. “Yet... you say you’re going back, and I assume you want me to go along with you.”

“Yes,” Alfred nodded sharply. If the professor thought this was a suicide mission, Alfred would still follow his plans, but his chances of succeeding in the allotted time were far too low to contemplate. “You know more about vampires than any man alive; their habits, their methods of feeding. Is it possible that we could create an alternative food source?”

“Oh!” The professor’s eyes glinted, as though already running through a thousand possibilities. “That might... it might be possible, if animal blood is partially effective on its own. Which is most potent, sheep or cow or-“

“Pig,” Alfred said. A grin was spreading across his face. He knew his mentor had caught the scent of a new discovery and nothing would keep him from the hunt now.

“We’ll need a lab,” Abronsius said, grabbing his suitcase and throwing random objects inside. “Materials, all the data we can get!”

“Already taken care of!” Alfred cried, moving to help. Hope was flaring in him, bright and giddy. This was the kind of academic endeavor he’d always dreamed of, hands-on science that could change the world. It would be dangerous, ridiculous, unprecedented, but by everything Alfred held dear they would succeed or die trying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I spent a LOT of time in research for this chapter. Every single source I mention is real, including the quote from Casper (whose opinion on lesbians, BTW, is that they barely exist and aren’t worth worrying about. No mention of bi women like me at all).
> 
> Also, scholars and academics of the time often were multilingual. Alfred’s ability to read four languages (all of which are somewhat related) is impressive for his age but not unduly so. As for Herbert, he’s probably read every book in the whole place at least once out of sheer boredom, and given all the cultures his fathers courtiers seem to come from he’s probably a walking phrase book.
> 
> Lastly, the reason the professor is so certain his smelling salts work is that he used them on himself to release himself from a certain compulsion. The count didn’t just rely on blackmail to keep him in the area, after all ;)


	3. White Pawn, Black Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yet more awkward conversations. A dilemma, a meeting and an unexpected inspiration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, more characters!

“Love. Love?” Herbert’s voice came with a hand on Alfred’s shoulder, shaking the human awake. “You can’t sleep in the library, darling.”

Alfred stirred, blinking up at his lover. He was leaning back in a (not terribly comfortable) chair, a copy of Jean-Baptiste Denys’s monograph on xenotransfusion open on his lap. The professor snored noisily on the other side of their book-covered table, in a far plusher armchair.

“Her-” Alfred yawned, “Herbert? What time is it?”

“Nearly dawn,” the vampire said. He was carrying a candle, which was good because the ones in the library had all burned out. “Come on, you’ve been at this for weeks.”

“Sorry,” Alfred said, wiping his eyes. “I just- this is important.”

“ _You’re_ important,” Herbert said. “Getting sick won’t help anything. Besides, what’s the rush?”

Alfred bit his lip. He hadn’t told Herbert about his meeting with the count and the not-so-veiled threats against his life. He knew the blonde well enough by now to realize that would be a mistake. Herbert was so protective he’d probably either start a fight with his father (which Alfred did _not_ want to see) or nail their bedroom door shut, both of which would be counterproductive. Instead, he just shrugged.

“Aren’t you getting hungry?” He asked. “Your health matters to me too.”

“Oh _darling!_ ” Herbert squealed, pulling his lover into a one-armed hug that knocked his book to the floor and rattled the chair he sat in.

“Wh- what’s that?” The professor sat up in his chair, looking wildly around. He went for the pocket Alfred knew held a crucifix. “Vampires?”

“Just one,” Alfred said hastily, mostly disentangling himself from his lover. “Don’t worry, it’s just Herbert, you’re safe.”

Of course, looking back Alfred realized they _hadn’t_ been safe. Sleeping in the library during the night, the two humans were easy prey to any vampires that might be looking for a snack. Even if the count had made it known that they were working on a solution to the blood shortage, it was still no guarantee that someone wouldn’t get thirsty enough to go for the kill.

“Right...” the professor said, pulling his hand slowly out of the pocket. He looked at Herbert’s arm still around the his student’s shoulders. “You.”

“Good morning, professor,” Herbert said, a touch too sweetly. His hand tightened on Alfred’s shoulder and the young man winced. His lover was still sore about the umbrella incident, and Abronsius’s own obvious distaste just made things even more tense and awkward. In fact, the blonde seemed almost jealous, which was silly. Alfred might like men, but the professor was old enough to be his grandfather!

... Ok, so was Herbert, but the vampire hardly acted his age, behaving more like a petulant five-year-old than an immortal creature of the night. It was cute and annoying in nearly equal measure.

“Yes, right,” Alfred said, trying to find words to defuse the tension. “Uh, wow, it’s dinner time! We should eat something, right?”

“Don’t you mean breakfast?” Abronsius said.

“Well...” Alfred said. “I guess I’m just used to living at night so it’s dinner for me?”

“Ah, yes,” the professor said, looking pointedly at Herbert. “There have been a lot of _changes_ in your lifestyle of late, are you sure it’s healthy?”

“What’s _unhealthy_ is keeping him up all day,” Herbert said, eyes darkening. His hand clenched hard on Alfred’s shoulder, and if the young man didn’t stop this now there was going to be trouble.

“Herbert,” Alfred said, “I’ll be back to bed in a moment, but I really am hungry. Could you grab something while we tidy up? I’ll meet you in our room.”

“Of course, love,” Herbert said with a kiss to his head and a ruffle of his hair, leaving the candle on the table. “You need to keep your strength up.”

Alfred waited until the door closed behind Herbert before glaring at the professor.

“What was _that_ about?” Alfred asked, “why are you provoking him?”

“I’m doing nothing of the sort,” Abronsius said stiffly. “He’s the one indecently pawing at my student-“

“He had his arm around my shoulders,” Alfred said frustrated. For all the professor had claimed to be ‘impossible to irritate’ he seemed quite annoyed at Herbert. “ _You’ve_ put your arm around my shoulders!”

“We never kissed,” Abronsius replied, then his eyes widened. “Unless... we did share a bed, and you said you liked men before. You never-“

“ _Professor_...” Alfred groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Come on, really? You’re almost four times my age! Don’t tell me you were attracted to women in their seventies when you were twenty.”

“Alright then,” the professor grumbled, apparently mollified. “Forgive me if my only example of homosexual behavior so far is a violent, indecent, undead lunatic.”

“Who is keeping us alive,” Alfred countered. He was far too sleepy to be having this conversation.

“He tried to kill you!”

“And we tried to kill him,” Alfred said. The thought chilled him now. What would’ve happened if Alfred had worked up the courage to stake the von Krolocks? Or the professor had managed to climb down into the crypt and do it himself? He would’ve never known the joy of Herbert’s presence, or learned about his own sexuality, or fallen in-

“Alfred, my boy...” Abronsius’s eyes were worried. “He’s _dangerous_.”

“I know,” Alfred said, swallowing hard. “I know exactly who and what he is but... but he’s... he’s...” Alfred twisted his hands in his lap. “He’s _important_ to me, professor. Even if you don’t like him, I’d like you to respect that.”

Abronsius sat back in his chair and sighed.

“Fine, have it your own way,” he said, waving a hand. “At least he’s a willing test subject...”

That was true. Nobody else was willing to touch their experimental concoctions after the chicken blood incident. With his help, the two humans had managed to create a blend of 3/4 pig’s blood and 1/4 lamb’s blood, but it still wasn’t quite right. Human blood had some kind of ineffable quality Herbert had described in very flowery (and scientifically unhelpful) terms. Something about a ‘depth of flavor’ and a ‘piquant edge’ that meant nothing to someone unable to taste the stuff, as well as a lightness that kept it from just settling uncomfortably in the stomach. Alfred felt like Beethoven, a deaf man writing music he would never hear.

With a sigh, Alfred got to tidying up the books, then sent the professor on his way. The old man was well enough armed (umbrella and crucifix) and Herbert would be sad if Alfred let the food get cold.

The young academic took a few pages of notes with him and headed back towards the room they shared. He should’ve kept his eyes up, but the nagging feeling that he was missing something obvious made him keep glancing down at his papers. As such, he wasn’t even looking when he walked around the corner and collided into Sarah.

“ _Oh!_ ” Alfred cried, papers flying out of his hands. He got down on his knees, scrambling after the scattered documents. “Uh, sorry-“

“No, no,” Sarah said quickly, “it was my fault.”

She bent over to help pick things up, revealing a generous amount of cleavage. Alfred gulped, waiting for the ardor to bloom in his chest like it once had... but it didn’t come. He felt the same way about Sarah as he did about the count: undeniably attracted in a physical way, but with no real desire to act on it. She was no less gorgeous than she’d been before, but the fierce, hot passion just wasn’t there anymore.

“So...” She handed him the papers, smiling awkwardly as they both stood. “How’s it going? The experiments I mean.”

“Good, good!” Alfred said, then stopped. “Actually pretty bad, but we’re working on it. Still waiting for that breakthrough, you know?”

“Right.” Sarah said. “So... good luck?”

In love or not, this was still horribly uncomfortable. They’d been avoiding each other since the ball and Sarah’s embrace, attraction and guilt and fear and jealousy all swirling inside Alfred. He wanted to leave, make an excuse... but no, he had faced the count, debated the professor, he could have a conversation with his ex-crush!

He opened his mouth for a pleasantry, but what came out was “I’m sorry.”

“I wasn’t looking where I was going either-“

“No,” Alfred shook his head, holding the papers tight. “The ball. I’m sorry I couldn’t get there. I couldn’t save you.”

“It’s...” Sarah shook her head. “I’m sorry you thought I needed to be saved. I never really explained myself properly.”

“Are you...” Alfred glanced up, finally meeting her eyes. “Are you happy? Now, here?”

“Yes,” Sarah smiled, eyes dreamy. “Breda treats me very well.”

“Bre- you mean the count?” Honestly, Alfred had never considered that the elder von Krolock _had_ a given name, but most people did after all. “So things are going well for you, then?”

“Very,” Sarah said. “He’s kind. Soulful.”

“Right...” Alfred said. He wasn’t sure if ‘kind’ was the right word, but he’d seen the count in the crypt, mourning over centuries of past lovers. If Sarah liked the dark and brooding type, she couldn’t do better, really. “I’m happy for you.”

“Really?” She asked, clearly surprised.

“Yeah,” Alfred said with a nod. “If he makes you happy and you make him happy... I’m happy for you, you know?”

Sarah smiled in a way that would’ve made his stomach do somersaults only a few months ago. Now it just made him smile back. Even if they couldn’t be lovers, perhaps they could be friends.

“Thank you,” Sarah said. “Are things going well with you and Herbert?”

It was the obvious next question, but somehow Alfred hadn’t been expecting it. She didn’t seem disgusted or disturbed, but rather hopeful that Alfred would say ‘yes’. Then again, she had fallen for a vampire who looked old enough to be her father, so taboos probably didn’t matter too much to her.

“I...” Alfred thought for a moment, considering the question, then smiled. “Yeah. He’s really, really great.”

“Good,” Sarah said, then giggled. “Look at us, dating two von Krolocks! Should I have you call me ‘mother’?”

“Oh _god_ no!” Alfred said, turning crimson. Then a thought struck him. A beautiful, brilliant thought. “Wait... _mother_... Sarah you’re a _genius!_ ”

Alfred caught the nonplussed woman up in a hug and spin her around in sheer glee, dropping the papers again but not caring one bit. Sarah squeaked in surprise, then shoved at his shoulders until he put her down.

“I didn’t actually mean-“

“No, not that, the _blood!_ ” Alfred said, making barely any sense even to himself. He tried to calm down enough to put his idea into words. “Humans... humans naturally feed on one another all the time, don’t they? It’s a natural stage of development!”

“You...” Sarah furrowed her brows, trying to follow his reasoning. “You mean nursing. But how does milk help with blood?”

“When I was studying at university I stayed with a foster family, and the mother couldn’t make enough milk to nurse her new baby...” Alfred paced back and forth, suddenly full of restless energy. “She needed a substitute. Cow’s milk doesn’t have all the right nutrients for a human, nor does sheep or goat, but you know what does?”

“Soup for Infants...” Sarah said, eyes wide.

“Yes!” Alfred cried, giddy. “Liebig’s baby formula! We can’t just use straight blood, we need to add the right supplements! Vasodilators, circulatory stimulants!”

“Uh, yeah!” Sarah said, clearly getting the gist even if she was utterly lost on the technical terms. “That sounds great! You think you can do it?”

“I _know_ we can!” Alfred said, grabbing her hands in his. His tiredness and hunger were gone, replaced by an all-encompassing excitement. The world was full of bright new possibilities, and once the professor heard about this...

Alfred turned to sprint down the corridor, leaving a stunned-looking Sarah in his wake and nearly slipping on his scattered papers. It didn’t matter, nothing mattered but getting to the kitchen while the professor was still there.

He passed Herbert in the hall, who nearly dropped a piping tray of Magda’s traditional Moldavian stew(infinitely better than Koukol’s ‘cooking’) as he spun around.

“Alfred!” Herbert cried with the pique of a man whose kind gesture had just turned out to be a waste of time. “What are you-“

“I’ll eat in the kitchen!” Alfred yelled over his shoulder. “Come on, I hope you’re thirsty!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I pulled off Sarah decently. She’s not a horrible person IMHO, just an impulsive, bored and lonely teenager who makes some bad and selfish decisions... not unlike Herbert in that way. Heck, they both love baths and even sing the same song in there!
> 
> Yet more research here. Justus von Liebig created the “Soup for Infants” in 1865, made of cow’s milk, wheat and malt flour, and potassium bicarbonate. It was the first baby formula and a literal lifesaver.
> 
> Pig blood is the closest to human blood in terms of chemical composition, and interviews with cannibals indicate that pork tastes most similar to human flesh (eew). Lamb’s blood was used in the first blood transfusion by Jean-Baptiste Denys, although the practice of xenotransfusion (animal blood into a human) was quickly outlawed.
> 
> Also, given that all the other vampires seem to be some sort of aristocrat, Magda and Chagal TOTALLY wind up doing stuff like cooking around the castle. (Herbert does run an errand here, but he’s only willing to do that for two people in the castle, and very rarely without complaining.)


	4. Sacrifices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ups and downs, mostly downs. Peace and quiet become a luxury and tensions rise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sacrifice: giving up a chess piece to gain an advantage. 
> 
> Here’s a short one.

Of course, things weren’t that simple.

The castle kitchen was huge, made for cooking 13th century feasts, but woefully out of date. Before Alfred had taken up residence, Koukol had been the only living inhabitant. As such, only one fireplace, a small table and a handful of dishes and cutlery were in any kind of functional state. It had taken some serious work (mostly by Alfred, Magda and Chagal) to get the place in any shape for making decent meals, and even more work to set up the lab on the far side next to the other fireplace.

There they measured and simmered, treated and tested. The first few attempts were disastrous, making Herbert sprint from the room to be noisily sick, but he came back every time with a wan smile and a determination to try again.

“I have to admit,” Abronsius said, “he’s resilient. If a woman kept making me throw up, I’d stop eating her cooking.”

“‘The course of true love never did run smooth’,” Herbert quoted, walking back into the kitchen and looking even paler than usual. “ _A_ _Midsummer Night’s Dream_ is a favorite of mine.”

“Indeed,” the professor said, raising a brow. “As I recall, the rest of that passage speaks of differences in blood, age and chosen company.”

“All of which we have,” Herbert said, slinging an arm over Alfred’s shoulder with a wink. “‘It stands as an edict in destiny. Then let us teach our trial patience, because it is a customary cross’. Right, love?”

That was true. It often slipped his mind that Herbert was a nobleman as well as an immortal. If either one of them had been a woman and the whole thing had taken place in normal, polite society, it would’ve still been quite the scandal. As it was, with the same gender, different sides of a conflict, different states of life and death... honestly, they could hardly have been more star-crossed if they’d tried.

Of course he still wasn’t sure about the ‘true love’ part, but more and more of him wanted to be. He doubted anyone would ever write a play about him and Herbert, but if they did he hoped it would have an upbeat ending. Some kind of happily ever after.

Whatever the case, hearing Herbert reciting love poetry always made him go all tingly inside. So tingly, in fact, that Alfred almost didn’t react in time when Herbert leaned in for a kiss. He smacked a hand over the vampire’s lips right before they met his.

“You just threw up blood,” Alfred said in response to his lover’s puppy-dog eyes. “I know it’s my fault, but I’m still not kissing you until you brush your teeth. And gargle. Twice.”

“ _Fine_ ,” Herbert said with a put-upon sigh. “The things I do for love... now pass me that next one.”

——

As the nights went on, their experiments went from disastrous to disappointing to almost decent. Ingredients the professor ordered had the time to make their way to the tiny village, and the count actually paid for them.

Tension, however, was growing in the castle. Eyes followed Alfred everywhere, and even Herbert had begun to notice. It got to the point that Alfred carried a crucifix everywhere again, and Herbert accompanied him even to the toilet. Any vampire that got close to Alfred was threatened with a glare and a catlike hiss, but the young man was even more worried for his mentor.

The professor could sleep through practically anything, so he had no idea who had left the deep scratch marks on his guest room door (which was locked and barred and sealed with holy oil). That scared them all, enough for Alfred to insist that the professor sleep in his and Herbert’s room. Nobody would dare defy the von Krolocks in their very presence no matter how hungry they were, but this led to even more trouble.

The professor was too old to sleep on a cot or the floor, so Alfred offered him his spot in the bed. This was, of course, unacceptable for both of the older men for obvious reasons, and every other arrangement just made things more ridiculous and unmanageable. In the end, they had a second bed brought in (with much sweating and swearing on Chagal’s part) for the professor and tucked it into the corner behind a discreet little screen, which led to the next problem.

“You cannot be serious” Alfred whispered, batting his lover’s hands away from the hem of his nightshirt. Herbert made a pouting face Alfred could barely make out in the dark.

“But _Aaaallllfreeeed_...” Herbert whined, “it’s been way too long! You were tired, and then I was sick, and you _know_ he won’t wake up-“

“Christ, Herbert,” Alfred said. “Do you have any shame at all?”

“Nope,” the vampire said, which was true enough. “Now come on, I know you want to fuck me. You _always_ want to fuck me-“

“ _No!_ ” Alfred snapped. Alright, he had just as strong a libido as Herbert but the professor’s presence was enough to effectively kill it.

“Blowjobs?” Herbert pleaded. “I’ll be quiet, so very quiet...”

“Your version of ‘quiet’ could wake the dead,” Alfred said. “Not vampires, actual inanimate corpses.”

“You can gag me?” Herbert said, which sent a delicious shiver down Alfred’s spine but wasn’t enough to shake his resolve.

“Not tonight,” Alfred insisted. He saw the crestfallen look on his lover’s face and sighed. “Your father wanted to play chess with the professor... I bet we could set that up and then go take a bath together.”

“Perfect!” Herbert chirped, clearly pleased by the opportunity to enjoy two of his favorite things together: baths and Alfred. In fact, he was so happy he almost forgot to complain about the professor’s snores.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not writing the bath, at least right now.
> 
> For those who aren’t up on there Shakespeare (as I know some of my readers aren’t native English speakers) Herbert’s quote is about how true love always runs into problems. The ones Shakespeare lists off are age gaps, differences in social status and being on opposite sides of some kind of social conflict.
> 
> Herbert’s argument is basically “our love is so utterly peppered with problems that it HAS to be true love”... which is kind of silly, but so is Herbert.


	5. Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A scientific breakthrough and a step towards peace. Preparations must be made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A discovery or discovered attack: a direct attack revealed when one piece moves out of the way of another.

“Experiment 137,” the professor dictated, holding up the vial containing their latest additive mixture. “Two part tincture of mistletoe, fifteen parts powdered ginger, one part cayenne pepper extract.”

Alfred nodded, scribbling down the ingredients and then checking the fire and his mercury thermometer.

“Ninety-eight degrees,” Alfred said. He ladled just the right amount of blood into a beaker, grateful for the cloth he’d started wearing over his mouth and nose. Not only did it remind Herbert not to kiss him, but it helped to dull the disgusting smell of hot pig and lamb’s blood. Even after working with the stuff for over a month it still made him queasy.

The professor poured the vial into the beaker, stirring it with a glass rod until it was completely incorporated. At last he passed the finished concoction to Herbert, who took it with a carefree hand.

Since the vampire had stopped retching, he’d started to get a bit bored (although not enough to leave). He would usually take a sip, think about it, offer a few semi-helpful suggestions and then go back to his novel.

This time, however, Herbert paused. His gorgeous eyes widened and his elegant brows rose as he took another sip, and then another. The professor had already turned back to his equipment, expecting no unusual result, until Alfred grabbed his arm.

“Herbert?” Alfred asked, hope suddenly surging through his veins. “How is it?”

“Good!” The vampire said, sounding genuinely surprised. “It’s not quite like human blood, but I don’t... I don’t think it _needs_ to be...”

He downed a long swig, and it was like watching a man who’d been lost in the desert for weeks taste water. His eyes closed in bliss as he emptied the rest of the beaker, leaving a crimson smear on his lips and residue clinging to the glass.

Herbert lowered the beaker slowly, hand trembling. His fangs were out, and the panting breaths he took reminded Alfred suddenly that every vampire in the castle had been living off scraps, including Herbert. Just how close had the blonde been to the end of his rope? And what would’ve happened if he’d reached it?

“This... this is...” Herbert gasped, licking his lips luxuriantly before breaking into a bright, bloody and mildly terrifying smile. “It’s _perfect!_ ”

He leaped to his feet, grabbing Alfred in supernaturally strong arms and spinning him around just like the young man had done to Sarah a few weeks before. Alfred squeaked in surprise as Herbert pressed a crimson kiss to his face-mask, then put him down while grinning like a fool.

“You beautiful, brilliant, _gorgeous_ man!” Herbert cried, snuggling his stunned lover close. “This is just as good as the real thing! I think it might be _better!_ I never thought I could love you more than I already did-“

“Oh, uh,” Alfred said. “Thanks? But the professor did most of it...”

Herbert paused and the professor stiffened, hand going to his umbrella as though afraid he was about to be hugged too. Instead, Herbert smiled in a way that actually reached his eyes and held out a hand.

“Thank you, professor,” he said.

Abronsius stares at the vampire’s hand for a moment as though it was a snake about to bite him, then reached forward. The handshake was enthusiastic on Herbert’s part and stiff on the old man’s, but a smile was starting to spread across the professor’s face at the pride and excitement of a successful discovery.

“I _have_ to tell father,” Herbert said, eyes sparkling with glee. “Right away, there’s not a moment to lose!”

The vampire turned and sprinted from the room like a man possessed, leaving Alfred and Abronsius blinking at each other in the wake of the blonde whirlwind that had just passed.

“I think...” Alfred said, pulling himself together, “I think we need to make some more.”

——

The count entered the kitchen with as much dignity as possible with Herbert literally dragging him along. Sarah followed in their wake, skirts lifted and eyes bright with excitement.

A beaker clearly would not do for the count, so his sample was presented in a hastily-polished silver goblet. Alfred and the professor watched nervously as that long-nailed hand reached out to take up the offering, sniffing the contents delicately. The look on his face was unreadable until he took his first sip.

It seemed that even the count couldn’t remain stoic when finally slaking his thirst. Von Krolock’s eyes closed just as his son’s had, and he went from savoring the drink to practically gulping it down. He licked his lips afterwards, seeking every drop before finally looking at the two scientists.

“Fascinating...” he said, breathing hard with his pupils blown. “It’s like the difference between red and white wine, different tastes but the same essence and effect. I must commend you, gentlemen.”

Alfred and the professor beamed at one another, while Herbert clapped his hands in glee.

“It’s simple, really,” Abronsius began, “we knew we needed to use circulatory stimulants, but the real breakthrough was-“

“We can discuss that later, professor,” the count said, pushing his goblet back towards the two humans. “You must understand, I’ve been hungry for a _long_ time...”

Alfred hastened to pour another goblet full, while the professor grabbed two beakers for Herbert and Sarah. The three vampires drank greedily, draining twelve portions together before they were satisfied.

“How much can you make by tomorrow night?” the count asked when he was finally able to speak again. “We need to feed my people as soon as possible.”

“With what we have...” the professor made some mental calculations. “About three gallons, so three adult humans worth.”

“Double it,” the count ordered. “Money is no object. Herbert and I have fed more recently than anyone else in the castle, and rations were lean even before you arrived. If we break their fast without satisfying them, they will turn on you.”

“Right,” the professor said, nodding sharply. “Alfred and I will go procure livestock.”

“We don’t need both of us to-“ Alfred began, but the professor cut him off with a hand on his arm, hustling the younger man out of the kitchen at a brisk pace.

“What did he mean,” Abronsius asked when they were out of earshot, “when he said Herbert had ‘fed recently’?”

“Uh....” Alfred blushed and rubbed the back of his head. “I kind of let him bite me a little?”

“You let him.” The professor’s tone was flat, as though he couldn’t believe his student’s stupidity. “You let a vampire bite you. On purpose.”

“Just on the thumb!” Alfred protested, holding up the digit. The professor grabbed his hand and examined the faint scar with a frown.

“Just here? He didn’t try for your throat?” Abronsius asked. Alfred shook his head and his mentor let out a faint whistle. “You should be dead.”

“What?” Alfred asked. “But it was only a few spoonfuls-“

“They prefer the blood of the _willing_ , boy,” the professor said. “And you saw how hungry he‘s been... under those circumstances, I don’t know how he could possibly have resisted killing you.”

“He loves me,” Alfred said quietly. “He really, _truly_ does.”

“What makes you say that?” The professor looked surprised. “You sound so certain...”

“There’s something I haven’t told you about vampire bites,” Alfred admitted. “Come on, I’ll explain on the way to the village.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, fun fact: I worked for 3 years in a living history museum, teaching about US daily life in 1845. One of my main areas was the pharmacy, where I made & explained historical medicine.
> 
> TdV takes place 40 years later and halfway across the world, but I still feel comfortable basing all my research here on my old reference books. I could’ve gone into FAR more detail on the processes involved, but I decided only to show the tip of the iceberg. 
> 
> (For example I've made cayenne pepper extract. DO NOT spill on your skin, it leaves 1st degree burns.)
> 
> Basically all the herbal additives here involve improving circulation & blood flow.


	6. Endgame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A vampire ball gets a little out of hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s the final chapter!

Alfred nervously pulled at the collar of his shirt, looking down at the ballroom full of vampires. Gaunt, haggard figures stared up at him and the professor like so many hungry wolves, waiting for their leaders to signal the time to kill. The only comfort was that the count stood before them on the spiral staircase, between his guests and his subjects, as well as Herbert’s hand in Alfred’s.

“My brethren!” Von Krolock said with an expansive gesture. “The last time we gathered here, I promised you a feast... a feast that never came to pass, due to the elusive nature of our quarry.”

He gestured at Alfred and the professor, which was far from comforting. A murmur went through the crowd, and Alfred saw many of the vampires baring fangs and licking lips.

“However, that night’s famine was our good fortune, as we would have been dining upon the golden geese! For too long we have stalked the night like common beasts, separating weaklings from the herd for meager meals. Now their ingenuity has produced a way to slake our thirst as never before, and it is time to taste the fruits of their labors.”

The count smiled, gesturing Magda and Chagal (who as usual were pressed into the role of servants) to pass out goblets of crimson liquid. Pale hands took the offered drinks, eyes wide at the (apparently) delicious smell. Their desire to taste the bloody concoction was clear, so the count quickly raised his own goblet in a toast.

“To a new era, and an end to hunger!” The count cried. His subjects mirrored the toast, drank... and all hell broke loose.

Alfred had heard of feeding frenzies before, the way sharks reacted to blood in the water, but this was something out of nightmares. The vampires drained their cups greedily and immediately went looking for more, fixating on the cauldron by the door of the hall. The crowd moved suddenly, like a wave rushing toward the shore, howling in bestial hunger as they flung themselves at the long-awaited meal. Something about their movement was different, undead lurching giving way to predatory grace.

“Fascinating!” The professor said, pulling out his pen and beginning to take notes, but the count grabbed his arm.

“You need to leave,” von Krolock said, looking down at the ravenous crowd with sudden worry. Some of those farthest from the cauldron were turning to stare up at the staircase where the two humans stood. “Now.”

“But this is-“ the professor began.

“ ** _Now!_** ” The count roared, shoving the old human up the steps. Alfred grabbed his mentor by one arm andthey started running, Herbert on their heels like a dog guarding sheep.

Behind them, Alfred could hear the count (and Sarah, who had quickly rushed to join her lover) hissing at the crowd like angry cobras. The scientist in him was fascinated by the animalistic way the alpha couple exerted their authority, but the rest of him just wanted to survive the night.

The three didn’t stop sprinting until they had reached Herbert’s room, locked the door and bolted it.

“Well,” the professor said, as he sank into a chair, ”I think we can count this experiment as a success.”

“Are you sure?” Alfred asked, still shaking. Herbert pulled him down onto a loveseat and wrapped an arm around his lover’s shoulders, which the brunette gratefully leaned into. “That got rather terrifying.”

“Gorging behavior is not uncommon among predators, especially after near-starvation. Lions, bears, the savage piranha fish of the South America...” the professor’s eyes glinted. “Besides, did you see the way they were moving?”

“Stiffly...” Alfred said, then his eyes widened. “Until they drank.” He expected the professor to explain but it was Herbert who piped up.

“Exactly, love. You’ve only seen them hungry,” the vampire said. “My father and I always got a larger share, otherwise we’d be just as bad... most of them were intelligent and good-looking before the pickings got so slim.”

That made Alfred wince. The idea of Herbert losing his grace, his beauty, his wit... it was horrific. How long would it have taken for that to happen if they hadn’t completed the blood substitute? The worst part of it was that Alfred knew Herbert now, on a deep, personal level. In spite of the hunger he’d sensed in the vampire’s mind during the earlier bite, he knew that the blonde would accept that fate rather than break his word to Alfred.

“Herbert...” he whispered, turning his face to the vampire and grabbing the hand that wasn’t around his shoulders. “I’m glad that didn’t happen to you.”

“Alfred...” The blonde’s smile was soft and bright and obviously besotted, sending a jolt of lightning through Alfred’s heart.

“Well,” the professor said, clearing his throat and making them both jump. “If there’s no more danger, I suppose I can move back to the guest room. Once things have properly settled down, of course.”

“ _Thank you_ , professor,” Herbert said, even happier than when he’d tasted their blood concoction. Alfred just grinned like an idiot while his lover squeezed him tight, and even the Abronsius gave them an indulgent little smile.

Things were finally going to be alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaaand we’re done! I hope you all enjoyed this story.
> 
> I have a few more (almost complete) tales in this series, and then I’m off to polish my novel to a mirror sheen once I’ve got these two out of my head. Hope you’ve all enjoyed!
> 
> Additional fun fact: piranhas aren’t nearly as vicious as they’re usually portrayed. They’re most dangerous when the water has dried up enough to trap a school of them in a very small pool with no prey. It’s once they’re starving that they start ripping things to shreds.

**Author's Note:**

> I feed on comments and kudos. Om nom nom!


End file.
